


Perfect Little Angels

by Formula_Tea



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Children, M/M, Mischief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 06:30:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3926377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Formula_Tea/pseuds/Formula_Tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Person A returning home to find Person B tied to a chair with a sock in their mouth, whipped cream on their face, trapped in a cushion fortress, and their child running around laughing maniacally at his/her “captive”.<br/>http://otpdisaster.tumblr.com/post/118765389065/person-a-returning-home-to-find-person-b-tied-to-a</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Little Angels

“My children are as good as gold,” Rob said. He waved over to the two little angels on the sofa, glued to a cartoon that was on the TV. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Are three of them, Rob,” Felipe said. “And yes, are good as gold _when they are alone._ But not when they have encouragement.”

Felipinho was on the floor, drawing. Felipe and Rob couldn’t quite tell what he was drawing, but it was something very purple and whenever they asked, Felipinho would hide it quickly.

“You’ll be fine,” Rob said, kissing Felipe on the forehead and hurrying out of the door before Felipe could stop him.

They’d only had the boys all together a couple of times. Usually Lucy would have Felix and Frankie when they had Felipinho, and Raffaela would have Felipinho whilst they had Felix and Frankie. But sometimes the visits fell together, and yes, Rob and Felipe liked that. But they’d learned that the three of them could be… a bit of a handful.

“Daddy Phillip?” Frankie asked. “Can we have the strawberries now?”

“They are for after dinner,” Felipe said.

“Can we have whipped cream on them?” Felipinho asked.

“Whipped cream!” Felix said, excitedly, his little fists punching the air, and almost hitting his brother.

“Yes, we are going to have whipped cream on them,” Felipe laughed, ruffling Felix’s hair. “But they are for after dinner.”

“ _Please_ ,” Felipinho whined.

“After dinner.”

“Daddy would let us have them now,” Frankie muttered.

“I want Daddy,” Felix said, sniffing loudly.

“Daddy has just popped to the shops, he will not be long,” Felipe said, but Felix’s lip was beginning to wobble, threateningly.

“I want Daddy.”

“He will be back soon,” Felipe promised, beginning to panic.

“I want him now,” Felix said, beginning to sob.

“Well he cannot come back now,” Felipe said. “Ok, ok, stop. Why don’t we have some strawberries and whipped cream whilst we wait for him, yeah?”

Felix stopped sobbing, looking up at Felipe and rubbing his eyes with a chubby fist. He nodded, his bottom lip still wobbling.

“I will go and get it ready now, yeah,” Felipe said, backing out of the room. “But no more crying.”

Felix nodded and Felipe disappeared into the kitchen. He knew they had him where they wanted him, but what was a bit of strawberries and whipped cream going to do really. And if it was going to make Felix stop crying, he didn’t think it would be that bad.

Felipe got four bowls out from the cupboard and strawberries and cream from the fridge, placing them all on the counter. He knew Felipinho didn’t really like strawberries that much, so he only placed a few in the bottom of his bowl, but Felipe didn’t know about Frankie and Felix.

“Papa?”

Felipinho stood in the kitchen doorway, trying to hide behind it and fiddling with the button on his polo shirt.

“Yeah? What’s the matter?”

“Can I show you my picture?” Felipinho asked, quietly.

“Sure you can,” Felipe said, smiling. He really hoped Felipinho wasn’t going to be in a funny mood too. Sometimes he got shy for no really reason. And clingy.

“You have to sit down,” Felipinho said. “And close your eyes. It’s a surprise.”

Felipe sighed but did as he was told, sitting on one of the kitchen chairs and closing his eyes…

 

Getting the door open and carrying three bags of shopping in both hand was too complicated for Rob, so he kicked at the door a couple of times and hoped Felipe would answer.

“I heard your boys are here,” the lady from next door said as she came out of the house, going to the car. “They’re making quite a racket.”

“Are they playing football?” Rob asked, booting the door again.

“No,” the lady said. “I think they were… chanting?”

“Chanting?” Rob asked, but the door opened before the lady could reply.

“Daddy’s back!” Frankie said, grinning, pulling Rob inside. Rob dumped the bags of shopping in the hallway and followed Frankie into the living room. The cartoons were still on the television but nobody was watching it. Felix was drawing crazy patterns on Felipinho’s leg – where the little Brazilian’s trousers were, Rob couldn’t tell – whilst Felipinho played with play dough. On the carpet. That was never going to come out.

“Felix, we only draw on paper, not people,” Rob said, taking the pen out of his youngest son’s hand and finding it covered in… “Is this whipped cream?”

“Uh huh,” Felix said.

“Shush!” Frankie said, quickly.

Rob stopped. “Felipinho, where’s Papa?”

Felipinho shrugged, rolling out the play dough with another plan.

“Frankie?”

“Don’t know,” Frankie said. “Look at my picture, Daddy.”

“Felix, mate, where’s Daddy Phillip?”

Felix looked up at Rob, thinking hard, then his face brightened as he remembered. “We gave Daddy Phillip his vegintables.”

“His what?”

“Felix,” Frankie cried, disappointed.

“His vegintables,” Felix said again. “Felipinho made them with the play dough and then we gave them to Daddy Phillip.”

“Wasn’t just me,” Felipinho said, quickly, looking up from his crafting.

“Felipinho, where’s your father?” Rob asked, standing.

Felipinho looked down at the floor. Now he was going to be in big trouble. He knew this wasn’t going to be a very good idea, even if it _was_ fun.

“Is in the kitchen,” he said, quietly.

Rob looked between the three boys, who were all looking very sorry for themselves now. He wasn’t sure what to expect but he knew this probably meant Felipe wasn’t going to let him leave the four of them alone again until Felix was fifteen.

“You three clear this mess up,” Rob said, leaving the room.

The door to the kitchen was closed, messy whipped-cream handprints around the handle. Rob pulled the door open and wiped his hands on his jeans, then promptly burst out laughing when he saw the scene inside. Felipe glared at him from his comfy looking seat. The Brazilian was tied to the kitchen chair with one of Rob’s football scarves, a pair of socks shoved into his mouth and a splodge of whipped cream on his nose topping off the picture.

Not that the glare Felipe was giving him didn’t make it any funnier.

“What happened?” Rob asked. The muffles he got in reply only made him laugh more. “Yes, alright, hang on a second.”

Rob patted himself down, eventually finding his phone in his back pocket. When he pulled it out, the muffled shouts got louder, but Rob still couldn’t tell what he was saying.

“It won’t go anywhere, I promise,” Rob said, taking a couple of pictures. Well, it would be a crime to not let Lucy and Raffaela see this. And maybe Claire. And Valtteri and Susie. And maybe a couple of others.

“I hate you,” Felipe said as soon as the socks were removed.

Rob just kissed the whipped cream from the end of Felipe’s nose and grinned. “Bet this was Frankie’s idea.”

“Have eaten half a tub of play dough,” Felipe cried.

“Sunshine, they were your vegintables,” Rob said, mimicking Felix.

“Could die.”

“It’s non-toxic,” Rob said, trying not to laugh. “How did you let this happen?”

“Just shut up and untie me.”


End file.
